Esper Magicks
by Panu
Summary: It always seemed so simple in the game...


The morning light rose gently from behind a little hill, gilding the treetops of a faraway forest. A man standing atop the hill smiled as the rising sun warmed his back; he squinted his eyes to see the distant trees better. The plain between the hill and the forest was empty and good at that, too. The man didn't expect anyone to show up, here. The nearest settlement was maybe thirty miles to the north. This solitude fit him perfectly.

Drawing a deep, calming breath he plucked a stone from his belt pouch and held it to the waking rays of the sun. The smooth, even surface of the round pebble shone faintly – it was as if a greenish fire burned inside. Appropriate, he thought, and closed his fingers tightly around the round stone. Drawing yet another calming breath he eyed the surrounding landscape one last time to make sure he wouldn't be interrupted and then closed his eyes.

"I am prepared", he whispered, pressing his closed fist to his chest.

Then, as if waking up, an entity entered his mind. He sensed a presence, a consciousness, that was older and wiser beyond comprehension. He sensed a mind so powerful it seemed to swallow his identity, and he fought to retain himself. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the presence receded, leaving only a faint feeling of someone being there.

"This… this be odd", the man breathed.

_Forgive me. It's the first time I am inside someone's mind_, said the presence. Or more accurately, it was an idea echoing in his mind, clear and sharp. But it was easier and more comfortable to think of it as speaking.

_Don't worry, it's just fine. Now, shall we begin? _the presence questioned. The man nodded. _Good. Now, you need to have an open mind. Then, concentrate._

"I beg your pardon? Concentrate on what?" he enquired, slightly baffled.

Ah, hum. First, empty your mind, the presence instructed. The man inhaled deeply. That reminded him of his father, and the first day he held a sword. So, he did as he did every time he practiced or fought: his mind became blank – there was not a single thought inside, only an emptiness, and total control. 

_Good. I see you have done this before. _The voice sounded surprised. _Now, think of a storm. A real tempest, a furious maelstrom._

He thought of a storm. There had been an awesome storm around his father's house when he had been only a little child. Lightning had struck and thunder roared so strongly he had thought the house would crumble to dust. He thought of the storm of battle, men shouting and screaming, the din of metal, exploding bombs. He thought of that fateful day, the dead ones, the loved ones, the treacherous ones, and a true storm blossomed inside him. There was nothing but fire, rage and destruction. Pure power tore open the earth and melted hills.

_Now – unleash it! _the voice bellowed. The man opened his eyes, opened his mouth and screamed…

Power surged inside him, around him, crackling in the air and in his veins, unwilling to leave. The man concentrated his mind to the distant forest and suddenly white flashes of lightning struck down out of nowhere. A magnificent rumble shook the ground a moment later, then another row of bolts tore at the trees. He saw how trees were set aflame or ripped off their roots and sent high into the air, and how great gouts of soil sprung like fountains every time the lightning struck.

As abruptly as it began the storm stopped. Nothing but a few burning trees remained, and inside him… all the angry feelings were gone and he was calm and serene again. It was as if the ferocious surge had washed it all away, sucked his fury and made it tangible for a split-second. A little tiredness had crept in to replace the fury. The man felt like he had worked hard for a day – or fought a battle.

_Very good. A little unfocused, but you are inexperienced. You will, in time, learn to do it at will, anytime you want and without my help. Now, rest. Talk to me again when you feel you're ready. _And with that, the feel of the presence faded completely. The man let his hand fall. The little rock in his hand felt cold and dead. Only a barely perceptible aura shone around it. He dropped it back into his pouch.

Again he stared at the distant forest. The fires were dying but still he could see the sings of the destruction he had wreaked. In just a second he had wrought more devastation than a battalion of soldiers could have made in a day. With such a force he could avenge…

"Cyan?"

He turned around to see the slightly worried face of Terra. There was an odd mixture of emotions on that oddly featured face. That face and her green hair made he very attractive, in a way, but he wasn't concerned of her as a woman. More as a daughter of sorts.

"Ramuh is a good teacher", Cyan murmured.

"Oh. M… magic", she mumbled and turned away hastily. She left for the camp and Cyan made to leave after her, but went to look back one more time. Only smoke rose from the razed forest now, but Cyan knew very well what he had done – and could do again. With this… he could avenge.


End file.
